No Beauty Could Move Me
by PhantomTwilighter2009
Summary: Erik sits in on the stage, thinking about his love for Christine, but little does she know she is thinking the same things too. Oneshot


**I know, I know, but I have to write this! I can't take it anymore! Every time I hear Terrance Mann sing that song I have the urge to write this story! For those of you who are utterly confused, I'm whining that I want to write a story to the lyrics ****If I Can't Love Her**** and I'm hesitant to write it because its been done over and over and over again. My idea is to use the reprise and the ending duet, which also follows the same tune to the song. I'm going to try and make this as unique as possible, considering it has been done before, and I really hope that you guys like it.**

**No Beauty Could Move Me**

Her performance had been wonderful tonight; it was always wonderful. Why should tonight have been any different? Perhaps it was the fact that she knew that she was no longer singing for her angel. Maybe it was that she was now singing for a man, a man who was considered to be the devil's incarnate. Erik sat on the stage of his opera house, holding the rose that was meant for Christine, but she would never receive it; why would she receive such a gift from a monster such as he?

His heart ached to hold her, to tell her that he wasn't the one who had killed Buquet, that he loved her so much! But that was all wishful thinking and he knew it. She would never love him no matter what he did; she loved her boy and he loved her back. Lifting his hand to his masked face, he was surprised that he found tears on his cheeks. When had he started crying? He was some sniveling child! He was a grown man, for God sakes! But Christine had reduced him to this…to this pathetic excuse of a phantom.

"Why can't you love me, Christine? I love you, yet you shun me and call me a monster. You run to your handsome boy while your poor, unhappy Erik suffers." He whispered into the darkness. He had made sure that nobody was in the theatre with him, but he failed to notice a tiny form in the very back; her petite body settling down in one of the seats.

Christine had not been able to sleep; all she could think of was her fallen angel, of Raoul, and of the performance of Erik's opera. Raoul had planned for her to lull Erik into a false sense of security and then he'd kill him. She had adamantly refused to participate, but when she had, people shot daggers at her and she had no choice but to agree. Raoul had been so proud of her; he had gone around the entire opera proclaiming how brave his beautiful fiancée was. She hated every second of it.

She didn't want to be part of a murder, especially not of the one of her angel. All he had ever done was tutor her, love her, and care for her when no one else would. When she had first come to the opera, she was slowly wasting away; her soul slowly ascending up to her papa's, but then he came and he cared for her just like her papa would! She began to eat again, to sleep again, to laugh. She had been so happy! Then she saw Raoul again. He had matured so much since she had seen him last, but there was still a boyish quality that stuck to him. Was that when she turned from her angel? Was that when she forgot the ten years of friendship that they had had?

Hearing a muffled sob, Christine turned her attention to Erik, who was hunched over his signature red rose with the black ribbon tied around the stem. Was she the one who had caused his tears? Had she really caused a man, _a man_, to cry such lonely, bitter tears?

Erik felt his shoulders shaking, the moans and whimpers escaping his mouth, and how he hated it! "Are you happy now, Christine? Are you happy that you have reduced me to a pile of snot and tears? Am I even more of a pathetic creature now? Please, let me know! I have to know!" he cried, crumpling the rose in his gloved hands. He needed an outlet…he needed to sing! If he didn't release this pent up emotion, he was likely to burn down the building! Raising his hand up to his face, Erik removed his mask, then his glove, and felt the molted flesh that lay beneath. He had felt it many times before, but something was different; it was wet, it felt rougher than usual, and the bumps seemed more sensitive underneath his fingertips. This was who he was. This was who he was going to be for the rest of his life.

_**And in my twisted face**_

_**There is not the slightest trace**_

_**Of anything…that even hints of kindness**_

Christine melted into a puddle at his whispered voice, still as beautiful as she remembered, but this time…it was distorted with pain and sadness and self loathing. "Erik…I'm so sorry."

Erik sighed. This song…it was just coming and he couldn't stop it. He didn't want to stop it. He hoped with all of his might that Christine could his song, but he had just checked on her before he had come here; she was sound asleep. Pulling off his wig, he ran his fingers through his thin, blonde hair before continuing.

_**And from my tortured shape**_

_**No comfort, no escape**_

_**I see, but deep with in is utter blindness**_

Why did he have to fall in love with her? He had sworn that he was going to be alone for the rest of his life, but as soon as he found her, crying and begging for her father to return, he gave in. He became her angel. He became the exact opposite of what God had destined him to be and by going against His wishes, he was being punished. His heart was being ripped out from his chest...

_**Hopeless**_

_**As my dream dies**_

_**As the time flies**_

Time. Christine felt guilt pile onto her heart. Time had always been a precious thing between her and Erik. The time during her lessons. The time she spent in his home. The time onstage due to him. She had always been the happiest during her time with Erik…how could she have forgotten those joyful nights, sitting by his side and listening to his angelic voice lace a tale from Persia, a fairytale from her Sweden, or simply singing her a lullaby as she fell asleep? She had hurt Erik so many times and in so many ways, but what about Raoul? She was his fiancée and she had pledged her undying love to her, but what if her undying love was dying?

Erik gave a hint of a smile; someone was in the theatre with him. He wasn't entirely sure who, but he could tell it was a woman, sitting in the very back. Had she heard his plea? Had she heard his singing and decided to listen? Perhaps it was Christine! What a wonderful idea that would be! She could be in the back, listening to her fallen angel and maybe she would run up on stage and tell him what a fool she had been and that she loved him and only him! But, that dream had died long ago. Just like the song said it did.

_**Love a lost illusion**_

_**Helpless, unforgiving**_

_**Cold and driven, to this sad…conclusion**_

Love was such an overused word. You can love food. You can love your pet. You can love clothes. People used it so much, but did they honestly know what the simple word mean? They probably didn't! Erik had waited to hear someone say that one word to him and he had accepted long ago that he never would, yet…he still craved the four letters. He wanted a woman to look at him, no mask, no wig, and tell him that she loved him. He wanted that more than anything in the world! Still, this was what he had arrived to. This was his conclusion.

_**No beauty could move me**_

_**No goodness improve me**_

_**No power on Earth, if I can't love her**_

Christine wanted to run up on stage and hold her angel, but her loyalty to Raoul was still holding her back? Was it loyalty that she felt? Had she really been following Raoul around the opera, soaking in his every word, basking in his presence as if she were his dog? Thinking back to the past six months, her worst fears were confirmed; in those six months, she had neglected Erik, turned her back on him and his ten years of teaching, and listened to the lies that Raoul had told her. How could she believe those lies?

_**No passion could reach me**_

_**No lesson could teach me**_

_**How I could have loved her and made her love me too**_

The last line of lyrics stung Erik's shattered heart. He had tried to make Christine see that he was more than a monster, more than a walking corpse; he wanted her to see that he was a living, breathing, feeling man who only wanted her love! Was it too much to ask? "God, I asked you to let her love me, but, once again, you have turned your back on me. Do you really hate me, as my mother did? As Christine does? If not, then why? I must know why you torture me." He breathed, trying to make sure that whoever was in the back couldn't hear him.

Tears spilled down Christine's pale cheeks. In the whole time she had known that Erik was a man, she had never seen him pray. He had told her time and time again that religion was a frivolous thing, that it was only for the weak, but now she knew that the reasoning behind it was pain. "Please, God…hear his prayer. He deserves to know that you haven't abandoned him."

_**If I can't love her…then who?**_

Who could love him? Nobody could! It had been like that for as long as he could remember. His first memory was of his mother beating him, cursing that there was no way that he was her son. When he had been in Persia and that girl had been given to him as a gift, he considered whether or not to make her love him, but he saw how she cowered. Now, he had tried to love Christine and it had ended in complete disaster.

_**Long ago I should have seen**_

_**Other things I could have been**_

_**Careless and unthinking, I moved onward**_

A sob escaped his throat, disgusted with himself. He hated that he had hardened himself against the world, but he hadn't done it on his own; if the world had shown him the littlest bit of compassion, Erik was sure he would have turned out different. He might have been gentler. He might have less bitterness within his soul. He might not be the murderer he was accused of being.

_**No pain could be deeper**_

_**No life could be cheaper**_

_**No point anymore, if I can't love her**_

How did all of this happen? How could everything go so wrong so fast? Christine had destroyed Erik with her own bare hands! She knew she had mercilessly ripped his soul to shreds and tossed it aside like it was a piece of garbage. He had placed his trust in her and she had twisted it and crushed it and she had never felt so terrible! Madame Giry had told her that one day her angel would cease to show, that he would perform a deed that even God wasn't supposed to forgive. At the time, Christine had thought nothing of it; she was still under the control of Raoul, but when she had received on of Erik's infamous notes dictating that a week before her wedding, her fears would no longer be necessary and only until a couple of nights ago, she finally understood what he meant. He meant he was going to kill himself. Suicide.

_**No spirit could win me**_

_**No hope left within in me**_

_**Hope I could have loved her and that she'd set me free**_

Erik knew that Christine could never free him from his never ending darkness. He was in too deep. He had been deep within it ever since he took his first breath as a newborn. "Whoever is here, you know that the Opera Ghost isn't really a specter, but a man. Tell anyone and everyone that you saw me. Tell them not to pursue me because after tonight, there will be nothing left to pursue." He called. Shocked, Christine stood up and moved into the aisle, but refused to move anymore than that, wondering what he was going to do.

_**But it's not to be**_

_**If I can't love her**_

_**Let the world be done with me**_

Pulling out the gun he had concealed within his cloak, Erik placed the barrel to his head, giving a wicked smile as he cocked it. This seemed to be a fitting end to a monster, to have his brains blown out all over his beloved stage. Hopefully the bloodstains would never come and everyone would be reminded of what they had done, what taunting another human being can lead to. Before he could pull the trigger, Erik heard the patter of running feet and could see the woman running towards him, but it wasn't just any woman…it was Christine!

"Erik, please, stop!" she cried, running up the stairs that led up onto the stage. He was really going to do it! He was going to shoot himself!

"Why do you care, my dear?" he spat, keeping the gun level with his head, "Just think of this as an early wedding gift from me. Tell the Vicomte that I'm sorry that I couldn't deliver it to him in person."

Christine stood a few feet away from her angel, tears rolling down her cheeks as she took in the sight of him; he was thinner than she remembered, dark circles were under his burning golden eyes, which seemed to have lost some of its sparkle, and his tear streaked face…it was nearly too much. The deformity no longer bothered her, but there was just something about her strong angel of music having tears on his face caused her to want to run, to deny that she wasn't the one who had caused them.

"Put the gun down, Erik, please. If not for your sake then do it for mine. I don't want to see you die and I certainly don't want you to."

"And yet you agreed to your boy's plan. Tell me, Christine," Erik sighed, lowering the gun, "do you enjoy toying with people? Do you enjoy causing pain? Because either way you choose, someone will get hurt. If you let me live, you'll be hurting everyone in this opera house; you'll damage their trust in you and your fiancée's precious ego. If you go with him, you'll kill me. Not with your own hands, no, but in the form of my suicide. That is how you will kill me, Christine. Give me an answer, my dear; I don't have much time, since I'd rather put myself out of my misery than a bad shot from a police officer."

To say that she was hurt would have been an understatement. Christine wanted to block out all of the nasty things Erik was saying, even though she knew deep down that he was telling the truth. No matter what she decided to do, she would end up hurting someone.

"I know I've made mistakes and believe me when I say I regret every single one of them. Erik, I'm so sorry for everything that I have done. I wish I could take it all back. I've been doing some thinking over the past few days, mainly about how much I've mistreated you, and how gullible I was to believe everything that Raoul told me." She whispered, kneeling beside him. Erik didn't want to hear her own lies; he knew that she was saying all of this out of pity.

"Just go back to him, Christine. Just go back to your boy and leave me to die in peace." He whispered dejectedly, his gaze going towards the gun in his hand. "I have done enough damage on your soul. You're no longer tied to me in any way, shape, or form."

Another verse just came to mind then. Erik lifted his gaze back up to meet Christine's brown eyed gaze and raised his hand as if to touch her cheek, but at the last second he dropped it back to his side.

_**No spell has been broken**_

_**No words have been spoken**_

_**No point anymore, if she can't love me**_

_**No hope that she would do so**_

_**No dream to pursue, so**_

_**I looked to myself, despise all the things I see**_

_**For I know that she**_

_**Cannot set me free**_

_**Let the world be done with me**_

Erik held back the growing tears and reached for his mask. He had nothing left, not even music could soothe him this time. Christine was just a naïve child and she couldn't help him, no matter how pure her intentions were.

"Erik, why must you sing such things? Yes, I know I cannot set you free from your darkness, but I want to help lead you out of it. I'm still only a girl, Angel, and I know my intentions may seem childish, and they are, but I just want to help." Christine smiled, grasping his hand that held his mask. She felt his body go rigid and she couldn't help but blush; she had never been so close to Erik before and she could tell that he had never been so close to a woman.

Then, a loud crack broke the moment between them. Erik didn't understand what was happening until he heard Christine give a small squeak of pain, collapsing into his strong arms. What just happened? Looking around for an explanation, his golden gaze locked with the sight of Raoul de Chagny; a gun was in the boy's shaking hand, smoke still coming out of the barrel.

"Christine?" the boy whispered, horrified that he had missed his target and hit his beautiful fiancée instead! When he had seen Christine up on the stage with the monster, Raoul had been so proud that she had been brave enough to lure him into a false sense of security and decided that right then and there would have been the most perfect opportunity to shoot the man who had plagued them both these pass several months. But he never intended to hit is beloved Christine!

Erik wanted to run and strangle the man who was standing before him, but his Christine needed his attention right now and no amount of fury could pull him away. Setting her down as gently as possible, he took a brief look at her body and nearly killed himself at what he saw: there was a huge bloodstain on her perfectly white nightgown. _Why her, God? Why are you doing this to me?! Is it because she told me she loved me? Is a demon not meant to find happiness with an angel?_ Letting his gaze travel up to her face, Erik saw that she was as pale as her nightgown, but there was a hint of a smile on her rosy lips.

"E-Erik…I love…y-you." She whispered softly, using up whatever energy she had left to convey her final thoughts to him. He needed to know that he was the one who held her heart, voice, and soul within the palm of his hand.

"Je t'aime, mon ange de la musique." Erik cried, bringing her limp hand up to his damaged cheek. He wanted to help her, he wanted to stop the flow of the blood, but he knew in his heart that it was too late; she was dying and there was nothing he, or de Chagny, could do about it.

Christine let her fingers weakly drag across his cheek, happy that she got to spend her final moments with her Erik, her angel. Taking in a full breath of air, she gave one final sigh, going completely limp. Erik gathered up her body in his arms, cursing God that he had finally found love, only to have it ripped out of his grasp once more.

Raoul stared at the beast before the events of what just happened crashed upon him; he had just killed Christine. He had just killed the woman he was to marry in less than a week. He hadn't meant to do it! He only wanted the monster to die! Not the innocent girl who was being cradled by said monster. Dropping the gun, Raoul let out a cry of pure rage and leaped up onto the stage, unsheathing his sword and held it above the creature's head; he was going to die! This…thing was the reason why Christine had died! Not him, not Raoul! Raoul was innocent!

Ignoring the Vicomte as best as he could, Erik pushed a stray curl behind Christine's ear; she looked like a true angel. Finally lifting his gaze, he gave a sadistic grin when he saw the sword positioned just above his ugly head. "Why don't you just get it over with? You're a murderer already, what more could possibly happen?"

"Be quiet, filth! You're the reason why she's dead! Why my beautiful, perfect Christine is dead!" Raoul roared, wanting nothing more than to cut off the beast's deformed head. Erik sneered at the accusation, but didn't completely ignore it; he did play a role in this scene, yet…he didn't feel guilty. He felt…at peace. Letting his eyes trail back to Christine's porcelain face, he placed his lips gently on top of hers, a few of his own tears falling upon her frozen cheeks. "If you want me to die, then I'll gladly do so, monsieur."

And before Raoul could react, Erik picked up the gun that had been sitting by his side, cocked it, and shot it into his forehead.

Erik felt no pain, only pure bliss that he was finally free; free from the cruelties of humanity and the confines of his grotesque body. Taking a final look at his body and Christine's, he smiled, a genuine one this time, and closed his eyes, waiting for his plunge into the fiery pits of hell…but nothing happened! Wasn't he condemned to such a place? According to every religion on Earth, a person such as himself, who had committed so many unspeakable crimes during his life, was supposed to rot for all eternity! Letting his mind wander, Erik didn't hear the sweet melody that was being sung in the distance. It wasn't until he heard his name that he broke out of his black thoughts. Opening his eyes, his breath was taken away at the sight before him: Christine was there, dressed in a flowing white dress that reached her knees, and was holding out her hand for him to take.

"Aren't you coming, my love?" her voice rang; it was truly angelic now! Erik looked between her pale, slender hand, and her face, not wanting to believe that she was going to lead him to heaven. Christine must have seen the look of disbelief on his face, for she said, "Everything you have ever done has been forgiven, mon ange. Come, heaven is waiting for its Angel of Music to return to them."

"There are things that I have done that shouldn't be forgiven, Christine; I'm a horrid person and I'm sure that once I reach the pearl gates, Saint Peter will shake his head and turn me away."

"Trust me, Erik, he'll accept you. Please, Erik, come with me; I want to spend all of eternity with the man I love." Christine pleaded, a little annoyed that, even in the after life, her Erik could still be stubborn. Glancing at her, Erik saw how her chocolate eyes sparkled with sincerity and love. He loved this woman. He loved her brown curls, eyes, her slightly upturned nose, rosy cheeks…all of it! Taking her surprisingly warm hand, Erik gave it a squeeze, letting his Christine know that he was ready whenever she was.

Christine gazed at her angel and remembered the tune he had been singing before they both died, but she wanted the lyrics to be happy! They were going to a wonderful place and the song shouldn't be so sad! Looking straight into Erik's piercing, yet loving, eyes, she could tell that he was thinking the exact same thing.

Raising their voices, they proclaimed their love before the angels, before God himself, and the angels themselves wept as the lovers reached their climax,

_**Two lives have begun now**_

_**Two hearts become one now**_

_**One passion, one dream**_

_**On thing forever true**_

_**I love you! **_

**That ending is so…sweet! It even makes me want to gag a little! But I had tons of fun writing it and I'm not entirely sure if its Saint Peter was the one who was by heaven's gates or not. I was raised Christian, not Catholic. **

**Erik: At least you tried to remember.**

**Me: I ended up going to like ten different sites just to find something about St. Peter! **

**Erik:…I think you're over exaggerating just a little bit.**

**Me: True. I wound up on some Catholic website, then I gave up on that and went straight to Wikipedia, which didn't do squat for me, so I just tried to remember it off the top of my head.**

**Erik: *sigh* Well, after that huge fiasco, please, remember to review! I have a family to feed here!**

**Me: But we don't get paid to do this.**

**Erik: Maybe you don't, but I get paid ten bucks for each review we get!**

**Me:…I'm expecting five bucks.**

**Erik:…*runs* Christine! She's harassing me again!**

**Me: Erik, stop being a baby! Listen to Erik, everyone, and review! I hope you all enjoyed it, even with the gag-me-with-a-spoon-this-is-so-fluffy-ending. **

**^.^**


End file.
